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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913517">Dr. Pines and Mr. Cipher</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammys_lover/pseuds/sammys_lover'>sammys_lover</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October Writing Challenge '20 [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gravity Falls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AND THEN ALONG CAME BILL, Are we still billfuckers in 2020, Biting, Blood, Choking, Desk Sex, F/M, Fisting, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, Halloween, I guess I'm about to find out, I just want ford to stick all six of his fingers in me, I'm sorry alex hirsch, I'm very sorry, Idiots in Love, Love Bites, Masochism, Oneshot, Riding, Rough Sex, Short, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Will edit later, and ya know what, from behind, hhh i'm so tired, i hope you never find this dude, just me being a straight-up sinner, no proofreading we die like warriors, october writing challenge, sinning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:35:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,081</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913517</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammys_lover/pseuds/sammys_lover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He's like the sun and moon</p><p>One way by day, another by night</p><p>Like the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde</p><p>He is Dr. Pines and Mr. Cipher.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bill Cipher/Reader, Ford Pines/Reader, Young!Ford Pines/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October Writing Challenge '20 [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949584</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. He's like day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ford is by all means, without a shadow of a doubt, a strange man. You have no doubt in your mind about that. By day, he’s gentle and kind, brilliant and ever-curious – but by night, he becomes... secretive. Even more strange. He tended to lock himself away from you, which led to quite a few lonely nights. You were sure that tonight would be one of those – winters without him by your side to keep you warm in the night were the worst. </p><p>He’s given you a few of his shirts to hold onto as your own, but sometimes it simply isn’t enough. </p><p>You’d walked into his humble home in the woods one day, wearing a blouse that was unbuttoned just a single button too low, and a skirt that was just tad too short, knowing exactly what you were getting yourself into. </p><p>“Stanford?” You call, a small smirk on your face as you listen to the clambering of something metal, a few sheets of paper fluttering, and a few discordant piano keys in a far-off adjacent room followed by a muffled “Ow- coming!” </p><p>You can’t help but laugh quietly to yourself – he'd always been so awkward around women – and men – and... well, everyone, really, it was endearing. </p><p>A moment or two later, he enters the room, flustered, his glasses crooked, a blush dusted on his cheeks. </p><p>Cute. </p><p>“Ready to go?” </p><p>Your soft question beckons him forth, and he’s quickly by your side, his arm looped with yours as he nods, and the both of you set off for the door. </p><p>The walk through the woods is quick and peaceful, the both of you making conversation on the way to the spot the both of you were headed for. </p><p>When you arrive, it’s just as you remember – you and Stanford had stumbled upon this spot when you were trying to persuade Steve to return one of the local’s cars. It’s a clearing almost always being warmed by a few golden beams of sunlight, daisies popping up and blooming around the edges of the little clearing, the rest of it littered with some of the tiniest blue flowers you’d ever seen – they stood an inch tall. </p><p>You set down the picnic basket you’d been carrying, letting Ford lay out the blanket that had been snugly folded inside. </p><p>The both of you had planned to eat a couple sandwiches, drink a little wine, and lay in the sunlight, the promise of much more lying beneath the surface all the while. </p><p>You were no fool – you saw his eyes wandering downward to gaze at your chest every once in a while. And he’s no fool either – he's well aware that your aforementioned outfit had been chosen simply for seduction. Though if he were honest, he would find you sexy in a potato sack. </p><p>You lay back on the blanket alongside him, fingers running lazily over his leg, the ghost of a smile on your lips as you sigh. </p><p>“You know, it’s a bit warm here in the sun,” You look up at him, tugging at the next button of your blouse lightly. “I may need to take this off.” </p><p>He smiles a touch, his blush worsening. </p><p>“We wouldn’t want you getting heatstroke...” </p><p>“Help me out of it?” </p><p>He silently agrees. You lay there are he moves to kneel between your legs, his fingers gracefully undoing the buttons, opening your shirt, his eyes raking over you, exposed in the afternoon light. </p><p>He stammers and chokes on his words for a moment. </p><p>It wasn’t like the two of you had never fooled around before. You had your lazy mornings and cozy afternoons – and every time he admired you like a goddess. </p><p>“You look very- very...” </p><p>You sit up, pulling him forward by the collar of his shirt, smile never leaving your face for a minute. </p><p>“Strange? Unusual? As odd and interesting as your silly specimens?” </p><p>“Oh, you’re certainly strange... but interesting?” </p><p>You playfully smack his chest, the both of you laughing as you fall back onto the blanket, pulling him down with you, lips moving softly against each other. </p><p>You can’t be bothered with the details of what came off when, but you will instead recall how he looked under you as you rolled the both of you over, his fingers stroking your lower lips as you hovered over him. </p><p>The sunlight shining through his soft brown hair only highlighted its messiness – you could see little marks from your lip-gloss on his collarbone, his chest, his forehead, his cheek. His pupils are blown with arousal as he looks up at you, his glasses folded and forgotten in the short grass of the meadow. </p><p>He holds your hand as you begin to lower yourself down on his cock, the head pressing into you easily. </p><p>You hum in content, watching his breathless expression smugly. </p><p>“I thought you could handle me by now, honey.” </p><p>“If you weren’t- ah, weren’t on top of me right now I'd have a proper comeback- nng-!” </p><p>You sink all the way down on his cock and squeeze him with your inner muscles, watching his eyes squeeze shut and his brows knit, a look of absolute pleasure on his face. </p><p>“You’re lucky you’re so handsome,” you tease, hands splayed out on his chest as you rock back and forth, starting up a slow, comfortable pace. </p><p>He moans deeply, a whisper of your name on his lips as his strong hands land softly on your thighs, helping you move up and down. </p><p>“Make noise for me, Stanford.” </p><p>He pants as you twirl your hips, spelling your name as you ride him. </p><p>“Oh- mmph, y/n, darling-” a particularly rough thrusts makes him interrupt himself with a groan, his cheeks tinting pink in the warm sunlight. “I- if you keep this up, I-” </p><p>“Then do it.” Your dare is accompanied by a glimmer of mischief in your eyes, circling your hips, pressure building as arousal blooms like a flower in your stomach. You want so badly for him to cum – to listen to the noises he makes. </p><p>He pants beneath you, egging you on as your hips grow frantic, forgetting to breathe as you spell your name one last time – and his fingertips dig into your skin as he holds you close, spilling into the condom he wore. </p><p>Those noises push you over the edge, your eyes shutting as you take it in – the sun on your skin, the smell of wildflowers and sex in the air, Ford’s hands on you, his throbbing dick pulsing against your walls... </p><p>Waves of pleasure wash over you, and for a moment, you’re completely lost in it, sweat beading on and trickling down your calves as you remain atop him, the tiniest shiver flowing through you. </p><p>You remain like that – still, and at peace, enjoying the afterglow. </p><p>Though you will admit, out here in the woods, while the risk of being seen adds to the fun of things... </p><p>You can’t help but feel like the trees have eyes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. And night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>BillFord!!!</p><p>Fordbill???</p><p>B  o  r  d  .</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You know that Stanford had his reasons for never having you over at night. You never knew why, but you knew they were out there somewhere. Another one of his secrets to be locked away for his eyes only. </p><p>His cozy cabin nestled deep in the woods is silent as you walk up to it. You weren’t sure why he’d called you to come over this evening – and you worry for a moment. Was something wrong? He had never asked you over twice in the same day before. </p><p>The door is unlocked, and you easily let yourself inside. </p><p>It’s dark, and it’s- it's cold. You pull your pullover tightly around your frame, spotting strange light coming from a door – isn't that the door that leads down to his lab? </p><p>You have no fear as you trek forward, entering the space, moving to call up the elevator. </p><p>It’s arrives quickly, and you press the down arrow once, waiting patiently as you’re transported underground. </p><p>He hadn’t said much over the phone – just that he was feeling bored (which was incredibly odd for him) and that he’d like you to come over. He was acting so out of character that you could have sworn even his voice was different somehow. </p><p>But because you trust him, you had come over anyway. </p><p>The elevator stops suddenly, and the doors part to reveal a room you... weren’t familiar with. It was strange – it had blueprints and tapestries all over the poorly-lit area. There were these pictures of this triangle with a single eye everywhere. On the tapestries. On books. Drawings of it scattered across the floor and on a desk on one side of the room. Ford was on the other side of the room, unmoving, even as your footsteps padded gently across the floor. </p><p>“Ford?” </p><p>His head just barely turns. He’s smiling. No- he's... he’s grinning. </p><p>“Hey there, hot stuff.” </p><p>Hot stuff? </p><p>You cross your arms and cock your head slightly to the side. </p><p>“Stanford? Are you feeling alright?” </p><p>You take another few steps towards him, and he turns fully now to face you, grin still on his face. It forces a shiver to arise in you. Something’s off. You can feel it. </p><p>“I’m feelin’ fine, doll! I’m just havin’ a sliiiight problem with my uh,” he gestures up and down his body with one hand, and you quirk a brow. </p><p>“Your body?” </p><p>“Yes! Yup! My body!” He steps towards you, and your first instinct is to shrink away – but you’re not sure why. It’s just Stanford! </p><p>...Right? </p><p>“Wanna give me a hand? There’s only one runner-up to pain, and according to ol’ sixer, you’re it.” </p><p>You’re not sure why he’s speaking like this – referring to himself as “sixer” -- but you don’t move. </p><p>His grin is unmoving, his eyes hidden away by a glare on his glasses. </p><p>“C’mon, dolly,” </p><p>You back up as he steps forward, heart beating out of your chest like prey being cornered – you're not sure what’s gotten into him, but god, he feels different. Darker. More... intense. He doesn’t seem to be the same Stanford you know and love. This man is so, so much darker. </p><p>You back into the desk, and he closes the space, his six-fingered hand ghosting over the hollow of your throat, a low, throaty laugh rising, barely audible from his chest. </p><p>“Let’s have some fun.” </p><p>His hand squeezes slightly, and a choked moan leaves you as you’re pressed against the desk, his obvious bulge pressing against you, hot and hard. </p><p>You sputter, absolutely soaked at how dominant he was for a change – throwing words out the window completely as you grind against his cock. </p><p>His moan is something inhuman as he moves to dump you like a damn animal, his hand tightening its grip, all fix of his fingers sure to leave absolutely gorgeous bruises on your neck as he cuts off your air flow. </p><p>Your noises are about as strangled as you feel as your head gets lighter the longer he holds your throat, the force at which his hips ground against you shaking the desk, books tumbling to the floor, the desk’s legs thumping sharply on the floor. </p><p>“Sta-” your attempt to speak is interrupted by a ragged moan from him as he grinds his hips right on your pussy. </p><p>“Stanford-” your voice is barely a squeak as you struggle for air, a burning arising in your chest as your lungs scream for air. “Bite m-me-!” </p><p>He pauses at your words, his Cheshire cat grin growing impossibly large as he releases your throat, a visible shiver running through him when you raggedly gasp for air, panting as relief floods through you – your inner walls twitch, arousal soaking your panties. </p><p>“I didn’t quite catch that, doll.” </p><p>He beckons you forward with a come-hither motion of his elegant, devilish fingers. </p><p>“Wanna try that again?” </p><p>You come closer as he offers you his ear, and you whisper, “Bite m- AH-!” </p><p>His teeth sink into your flesh, and the intense pain forces you to scream out – he's nearly broken the skin, and you believe for a moment that he might rip you open right there. </p><p>He swats seemingly at nothing off to the side, releasing your neck to push you back and up onto the desk, his hands reaching down to straight-up tear your pants right down the seam, exposing your underwear. </p><p>“Ford, my- FUCK!” you groan in pain when he bites down where your neck connects to your shoulder, a sickening crunch signaling the breaking of your skin. Oooooh, who cares about your stupid pants – this is too good to stop now. </p><p>You somehow cry out in pain and pleasure at the same time, squirming beneath him as his hand pushes one of your legs up to perch on the desk, leaving the other one dangling. </p><p>He doesn’t bother to undress you, pushing your panties aside to roughly shove two fingers into you, curing them as if he was curious – exploring you. </p><p>His teeth unsheathe themselves from your throbbing, bleeding wound, hot breath ghosting over the punctured flesh before he bit you again – slightly off – a new wound blooming under his mouth. </p><p>There’s a fine line between pain and pleasure, and he’s walking it hard as your cries reverberate against the walls of this strange room of triangles, gasping for breath as a third finger enters you. </p><p>You don’t even have the place of mind to grind against him – you're just gripping him hard enough to bruise, whimpering openly into the air. </p><p>His hand is pushing his fingers deeper into you, far past the second knuckle, curling upward to brush against your g-spot, your orgasm dangerously close. </p><p>He growls into your open wounds, a fourth finger pushing into you, testing your limits. </p><p>And test you it does – the stretch is just enough when paired with the feeling of shuttering, bitter relief when his jaw releases pressure, and he pulls his teeth from your flesh once again, the sting of the air in your wound causing the band in your gut to snap – and you cum around his fingers, crying out, moaning, tears streaming down your face, the burning hot sensation of every twisted, delicious thing he was doing to you too much. </p><p>He doesn’t stop on your account – he uses your cum against you, the slickness of your sex giving him the lubricant to push his fifth finger into you, the stretch turning to a burn as his thumb grazed your clit before twisting downwards to push against your entrance. </p><p>You moan his name as he pushes his entire fist inside you, stretching you to your absolute limit – your knuckles are white due to how hard you were gripping his coat, panting heavily as you adjusted. </p><p>You don’t have long to get used to his fist within you – he moves it back and forth, his heavy breaths broken by an occasional breathless laugh. </p><p>Your legs are sprawled out without grace across the desk as you take him – he leans forward to loom over hidden by a glare on his glasses – the tint is yellow, and it shines hot on your skin as your eyes fall to his smile – your blood is in the corners of his mouth, over his teeth. </p><p>You want to lick it off. </p><p>You don’t have a chance to act on your lewd thought – he fists you faster, and the delicious stretch stuns you in place, every inch of your skin burning. Was it a survival instinct? Was it all due to your racing heart and rushing arousal? You don’t care. </p><p>You’re about to beg him to pull his fist out of you and fuck you into next week When he pulls his fist back suddenly, the pressure of his fist sliding out of you sending a chill up your spine. </p><p>He examines his fist, seemingly satisfied, crudely wiping your arousal off on his coat before nodding his head once. </p><p>“Turn over.” </p><p>You do, listening to the rustle of fabric before he- </p><p>“OH, GOD-!” </p><p>He thrust his cock into you in a single motion, your sore walls clenching around him as he leaned over the desk, his fingers clawing at the wood as he kept up a rough pace, grunt and groaning in your ear, guttural noises you never thought you would hear from him gracing the air. </p><p>He was so rough and hot and your sore everything only turned you on more, the sensation of his cock fucking you hard and deep paired with the dull ache from the bites on your shoulder and the noises he was making a perfect storm. </p><p>Your own hand squirms down to rub your clit as he refused to let up – and it didn’t take long for you to come undone around him, twitching and spasming out of control. </p><p>Overstimulation begins to bloom deep in your gut as he continues for only a few more particularly violent thrusts before he groans, deeply, sounding like himself. You can feel his hot cum shooting inside you – oh, that might be a problem later – but for now it just made goosebumps erupt all over your body.  </p><p>He fills you completely. Even as he remains inside of you, you can feel his cum dripping down your inner thigh. </p><p>You lay there, panting, spent, shivering, neither of you moving for a long moment. </p><p>Then Ford gasps quietly, pulling his now soft cock from you carefully before turning you around to face him – the glare hiding his eyes is gone, replaced with... concern? </p><p>“Darling, I-” he stops, looking completely flustered. “I’m so sor-” </p><p>You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him with the fire you only ever reserved for deep in the forest, moaning into his mouth. </p><p>“Stanford, you...” you laugh breathlessly, completely exhausted. Maybe you could stay the night. “You sure know how to get a lady off.” </p><p>He laughs nervously, but you don’t pay it any mind as you gently take his hand that had been inside of you, kissing his knuckles lightly. </p><p>“...but you still owe me a new pair of pants.” </p><p>The both of you share a laugh as you gather yourselves, Ford seeming to rush you out of the room. You’re too exhausted to question him now. That would just have to wait until morning. </p><p>You sleep in his home that night, comfortably and blissfully unaware that the triangular tapestries on the wall watched you leave the room. </p><p>Trees aren’t the only things that have eyes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Curb your enthusiasm theme plays*</p></blockquote></div></div>
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